(Untitled)

[idkmybffnirvash]

[Well, if you could sleep through the sounds of roaring engines, high-speed flight, and girls giggling, then you probably had a good sleep last night! If you don't sleep like the dead, then you may have had a little trouble. Either way, sometime past noon, the sky surfing comes to a stop as the mecha touch down far from camp proper, and two girls

Comments

[runstowardsfire]

*a witch is on her daily fly-about and lands for a look*

[Curious machines . . .]

[Going to be slow]

[idkmybffnirvash]

Three. Mater, Maurice, and Linck.

[runstowardsfire]

How old are they now?

[idkmybffnirvash]

Five, six, and seven.

[runstowardsfire]

[Ah.]

Do they have a father?

[idkmybffnirvash]

No, they don't.

[runstowardsfire]

Are you managing all right on your own then?

[idkmybffnirvash]

I am. They are good children.

[runstowardsfire]

That's good to hear. I used to take care of my brother Wentworth while everyone was out shearing the sheep--he always wanted sweets.

[idkmybffnirvash]

They know that they have to eat their vegetables and do their homework.

[runstowardsfire]

You're a good mother to them then.

[idkmybffnirvash]

Thank you.

[runstowardsfire]

Is it hard to take care of children and fly out on missions?

[idkmybffnirvash]

No, they know that I have to fight, and I always come back.

[runstowardsfire]

*tucking this aside for consideration*

So people fight in flying machines where you're from . . . Have you you been doing it long?

[idkmybffnirvash]

For awhile.